Batman: Target
by Batguy
Summary: The sequel to Batman: Loose Ends. Set once again after the events of Begins and John Shirley's novel Dead White, the Caped Crusader is put to the test when Sal Maroni's team of psychotic assasins, plus two new members, return to kill him... Finale now up!
1. Prologue

_**BATMAN: TARGET**_

**PROLOGUE:**

****

** DISCLAIMER: **_I'm afraid to say that I do not own any of the main participating characters in this story... sorry to disappoint, folks!_

_NOTE: Though officially the TARGET prelude, this chapter is also effectively the epilogue of the first short story set after the events of Batman Begins (and the novel DEAD WHITE), BATMAN: LOOSE ENDS._

Alfred Pennyworthy tried to scream, as the entire warehouse began to explode around him. Suddenly, he heard a motor. Something vast, black and metallic slammed into his chest, launching Alfred through the factory wall. Alfred dropped to the grass of Gotham Park. He stared at the Batman's private jet hurtled away.

"Thank you, Miss Rachel…" He muttered to himself.

Rachel Dawes sat in the cockpit of the jet, staring at the distant figure of Alfred. What the Hell had she done? There were many ways she could have saved the old butler without doing such a suicidal, dangerous thing… surely?

The radio crackled on.

"Alfred?" It was a rasping voice. The voice Bruce Wayne used in his guise as the sinister Batman.

"Bruce!?" She exclaimed. _He was OK! _Rachel smiled weakly to herself despite her fear, "You're OK!?"

"I… I think so," Came the mumbled reply, "Yeah. Surprisingly."

"What the _Hell _happened to you!?"

"Never mind that now. What're you doing in the plane? It's not exactly public transport," Bruce was _concerned _for her, Rachel realised, even though HE was the one who had inexplicably vanished for 48 hours, having been almost shot to death by a madman in a top hat, "Where the Hell are you? Can you fly that thing!?"

"Uh… it's on autopilot," She replied.

"Hang on! I've got you on radar. On the autopilot, set coordinates to 481, 176."

"But that's off-shore!" Exclaimed Rachel.

"Exactly. I'm always prepared for any contingency, Rachel… and that's a sea plane!" Bruce chuckled. _The bastard ACTUALLY laughed. _

Rachel, despite her anger, typed in the coordinates and sat back in her seat. She looked out… people were staring up at her. Suddenly, her day became one _Hell _of a lot worse, if that was even possible: two military fighter jets flew up on either side of her.

"Bruce," Rachel muttered, "I've got company…"

"Hold on," Came Bruce's rasping false voice- the voice of the Batman, "I'm prepared for any contingency."

"Even this!? How the Hell did you prepare for THIS!?" Screamed Rachel, "Have you got your own little Bat- Air Force? A Bat- Anti Aircraft Arsenal!?"

Bruce chuckled over the speaker:

"Nothing so elaborate."

Alfred knelt gasping on the grass. People stared at him. A stone- faced warden strode over to the old Englishman.

"Are you OK, sir?" Asked the warden, "People reported a disturbance."

Alfred smiled innocently:

"Fine, thank you very much, sir," Alfred slowly rose and walked weakly towards the entrance.

"Um… sir… what's…?"

A tall, dark caped figure stood, waiting for Alfred at the park gate. A large, black tank- like vehicle was parked outside.

"Alfred," Batman glared at the warden, who sidled away nervously, "I have to go and pick up, Rachel, but I just had to make sure you're OK, old friend."

"Marvellous, sir," Alfred beamed at his employer, "Shall I be seeing you back at home, old chap?"

"Of course," The Dark Knight turned and walked to his vehicle. The cockpit slid open and Batman swung over into the Tumbler. The cockpit slid shut and the vehicle raced away.

"Good luck, sir!" Shouted Alfred, and limped away towards a coming taxi, raising his arm…

Rachel was running out of time. The jet raced over the waters, pursued by four fully armed US fighter jets. A rapid burst of machine gun fire sliced at the plane's tail. Rachel screamed momentarily as the vehicle shot down and slammed onto the water. The plane bobbed weakly for only a moment… and the attacking aircraft closed in. Rachel stared through the tinted windows. The planes opened fire, and then the winged, bat-like jet was spinning across the waves, bullets bouncing off its hull. Rachel screamed again, again and again.

"BRUCE! DAMMIT! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!?" She hollered into the speaker system but there was no reply… until Rachel looked out of the window. The Tumbler was streaking across the water. Rachel stopped screaming. The US jets turned…

Captain Randolph Stacy sat in the cockpit of his jet. He slipped his goggles down over his eyes and took aim. The plane was evidently a dangerous weapon, and an unauthorised aircraft to boot: Stacy spoke into his speaker to his fellow pilots.

"Prepare to fire," He said, "Take aim…"

Suddenly, a tank- like, black vehicle was racing across the water at them. An unknown, rasping voice came through Stacy's speakers:

"Men of the US Air Force, stand down. An innocent is in that vehicle… this is the Batman speaking and I will not tolerate any harm on the inhabitant of that jet. Leave now and do not harm her, or I may have to react with force."

"What the Hell…?" Muttered Stacy, "Boys?"

"Yes, sir?" It was Sergeant Noel Schneider who spoke.

"You hear that?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, boys, that tank thing is the vehicular transport for the wanted fugitive The Batman. I want that vehicle destroyed, on the double!"

Batman pressed down the Tumbler accelerator and hit one of the many newly added triggers on the vehicle's controls. A cable snaked out from the back of the Tumbler and the Dark Knight turned his vehicle, allowing the cable to hook onto Rachel's plane's tailfin. The Tumbler raced away, dragging the seaplane with it. Bruce finally spoke:

"Hold on, Rachel! You'll be OK!"

Suddenly, the US planes opened fire. Bullets bounced off the Tumbler, until one punctured his petrol tank. Batman cursed loudly. Oil sprayed upwards, over the windscreen. The attackers opened fire with renewed determination. The Dark Knight saw Gotham Harbour, a mile off…

Two new planes soared down at the Tumbler… Batman yelled out:

"Rachel! Take off!"

"Are you nuts!?" Crackled Rachel's reply, "You'll die!"

"Do it!" Commanded the Caped Crusader, "Trust me."

The "Batplane" rocketed up into the air, the Tumbler hanging loosely from it. The cable was strained… slipping loose. Bruce heard Rachel's scream of horror over the speaker system and hit another button. The cockpit slid back and Batman kicked out, launching himself from the car and aiming his grappling gun… the vigilante grappled onto the plane's wing and clung on for dear life. Wind rushed past the Caped Crusader and he held on… determined not to fail. Slowly, oh so agonisingly slowly, the cockpit slid open and he dropped into the jet, beside Rachel. The cockpit slid shut and the two stared at each other.

"Thank you…" Said Rachel quietly, as Bruce took the controls and rocketed the plane into Gotham… leaving the Tumbler to drop one hundred feet to the ground, waves erupting upwards as it struck the water and sank…


	2. Chapter 1

_**BATMAN: TARGET**_

_NOTE: Though officially the TARGET prelude, this chapter is also effectively the epilogue of the first short story set after the events of Batman Begins (and the novel DEAD WHITE), BATMAN: LOOSE ENDS._

**_CHAPTER ONE: Progression_**

Later, Batman was crouched, unmasked, at a large flat computer, attached to the wall. The computer's screen was missing, allowing Bruce to access wires and circuitry.

This device would soon be an essential tool for his war on crime, or so Bruce hoped. He had it all planned: a tap directly leaking him all information from the GCPD's computer systems and multiple other sources, not to mention his hopes to fix the computer to hack _any _modern secured system.

He heard footsteps nearby, coming down the stone steps to the cave, and turned hurriedly. Rachel was standing on the Bat Cave's steps.

"Hey," She said, "We need to talk."

Bruce walked over to her.

"Yes?"

"Thank you for saving me, but…"

"What?"

"I'm not sure if I can live happily in Gotham any more. I'm going away for a while, though… I'll be back. Sooner or later."

"Rachel…" Bruce stared into her eyes, "I… I'll be waiting."

"Goodbye, Bruce." Rachel walked away, leaving the cave. Bruce sighed… he had work to do… now wasn't the time to grieve.

Jervis Tetch sat in the back room of a casino, smoking, playing poker with his fellow hired killers: the psychotic _butchers _Victor Zsasz and Cornelius Stirk; the pyromaniac and arsonist Garfield Lyns; and the infamous ex- director of Arkham Asylum, Jonathan "Scarecrow" Crane.

Tetch scorned his fellows. They were all raving lunatics and, with the exception of Crane, where idiots. But Tetch realised something he doubted the others did- though Crane had discussed it with him. Crane knew. Tetch felt an automatic kinship with Crane- geniuses scorned as lunatics, rejected by society, despite their intelligence. And both realised that Salvatore Maroni had hired them for a reason- how could a _madman _be used to testify. Tetch was insulted by this truth, but he would never say as much- he wanted his money and, besides, Maroni was not a man to cross…

"You fucking asshole."

It was Lyns speaking. He had no patience, that man… and his pyromania could be a real issue in their job. A fight with Batman was not the time to get distracted by such perverse tendancies. The moron was glaring across at Crane, who had, unsurprisingly, beaten the madman.

"I wouldn't say such things if I were you, my dear Garfield," Crane smiled icily at the arsonist, "They might… come back… to _haunt _you."

Crane chuckled. Tetch sighed as Lyns rose angrily and slammed his chair under the table, scattering cards and chips everywhere. Zsasz spat and spoke quietly:

"_Take Crane's advice, Lyns… irritating me hurts…"_

Lyns glared right back at Zsasz:

"You won't kill me, Victor. You wouldn't dare… you're too scared.

"_Of you?" _Zsasz sneered at Lyns, _"You snivelling retard. Why the fuck would I be scared of you?"_

"Not of me," Lyns smiled nervously, trying to look confident, "Of Maroni."

Zsasz glared at Lyns and produced a knife- a long, thin instrument, with a blade sharper than any of them had seen before. The serial killer licked slowly along the blade edge, blood running off his tongue and down his chin.

"Well…" Tetch spoke calmly, "We'd better go… it's time."

_It was time to trap and kill The Batman… _

Zak Somago and Billy Dee were thugs. There was no other word to describe their criminal status. They stood in the shadows of an alley to avoid the rain, sharing their last cigarette from their heist the week before.

"Jesus, Zak, we need money… _bad…" _Muttered Billy.

"Yer tellin' me? I ain't had a spliff in a couple'a months…"

Then, they heard footsteps… a man in a suit that must have cost more than Zak and Billy's entire accumulated wardrobe walked by. He was old, at least in his mid sixties, with receding grey hair. He hobbled along on a walking stick.

"Hey, Zak…" Whispered Billy, "You think…?"

"Heh. Let's do it, man…"

Zak stepped out in front of the old man, pulling out a kitchen knife- he'd not seen enough money for anything better for months. The old man reeled back, staring in fear.

"Hey, grampa," Grinned Zak, "Nice suit."

The old man tried to turn… to run… but Billy blocked his path, brandishing a metal bar of some kind.

"The money, old man!" Shouted Zak, "Gimme yer fucking wallet!"

"How about 'no'" Came a voice.

"What? Who said…"

A gloved fist shot from the darkness, knocking Zak into the wall. The punk slumped down, unconscious. Billy stared and swung the bar at the old man in his panic. Batman had released a bat- shaped shuriken before Billy could move the bar and the weapon knocked Billy's tool flying aside. The young thug turned and ran, but somehow the dark spectral crusader for justice dropped in front of him and released a savage roundhouse kick… Billy blacked out.

Suddenly, the Dark Knight heard screams. He grappled onto a roof, ignoring the gasping old man to see a huge fire lighting up Robinson Park. He leapt across rooftops and surveyed the park… Wayne Tower was burning, screams coming from the building. Batman grappled into the tower, smashing through a window… and he felt a familiar weapon barrel pressed to his back: an automatic shotgun…

_**CHAPTER TWO: Hunter/ Prey**_

"Don't move a muscle," Tetch spoke coldly, precisely, like a teacher explaining the answer to a mathematical equation. The Dark Knight silently cursed his failure to act cautiously.

"Jervis," He said icily, "Put down the gun."

"How about 'no'?" Snarled Tetch and Batman stared as Victor Zsasz stepped from the shadows, holding two of his long knives. Stirk stood behind him, with rusty hatchets that chilled the hero to the bone.


	3. Chapter 2

_**BATMAN: TARGET**_

_**CHAPTER TWO: Hunter/ Prey**_

"Don't move a muscle," Tetch spoke coldly, precisely, like a teacher explaining the answer to a mathematical equation. The Dark Knight silently cursed his failure to act cautiously.

"Jervis," He said icily, "Put down the gun."

"How about 'no'?" Snarled Tetch and Batman stared as Victor Zsasz stepped from the shadows, holding two of his long knives. Stirk stood behind him, with rusty hatchets that chilled the hero to the bone. A masked man in a nomex bodysuit, clutching a portable flamethrower, stepped into the light.

"Lyns," Batman grunted, "Maroni's hired himself quite the band of psychopaths."

Suddenly, the vigilante was gone… behind Tetch and sidekicking the hat- wearing gunman aside. Lyns yelled out and released a long stream of flame, swallowing up the rest of the room. Batman was everywhere at once, punching, kicking, hurling shuriken like a flash…

"NAIL THAT FREAK!" Lyns was yelling as Batman erupted from behind wreckage and kicked the arsonist aside. Tetch fired frantically at the vigilante, a bullet nicking Batman's leg, and the Caped Crusader dropped to his knees. Zsasz sniggered and walked up to Batman, putting one of the knives to his neck.

"_Goodbye."_

The wall exploded! Zsasz dived away, his fellow hitmen hurled willy nilly, as a police helicopter bombarded the room with shells from a turreted machine gun. The Batman rose, sorely, and limped to the window. He prepared to jump… as the door crashed open. Gas seeped into the room. The hero spun around and saw a horrific sight… a beast, some kind of Scarecrow… advancing towards him.

"_Batman… Fear me…"_

Batman knew this feeling: Crane. He fought his terror… and won, diving from the window as terrible images flashed past… his dead parents… bats… bats in the well at Wayne Manor…

The Dark Knight slammed onto a rooftop, gasping, groaning, retching. _Who could he call? Who could help? Alfred was still recovering from his escapade with the plane… Rachel was… gone… _There was only one source of help left.

The vigilante tuned his cowl radio slowly:

"Gordon…" The radio had a direct link to Captain Gordon's mobile, "I need help… now!"

Jim Gordon's small apartment in Miller Crescent wasn't exactly the place one would expect to find _The Batman _sprawled across the sofa. The Dark Knight slowly came around, seeing Gordon sat in an armchair, smoking and drinking from a glass of beer.

"You OK?" Asked the police captain, taking a long drag.

"Yeah… thanks," Grunted the vigilante, "You saved me, Jim."

"What the _Hell _was going on up there, Batman?" Asked Gordon, "Authorities implied they saw _five _Arkham escapees fleeing the scene."

"Crane… Tetch… Zsasz… Stirk… and Lyns," Summarised Batman, "Maroni hired them to kill me."

The hero swung to his feet and walked to the window.

"Thank you, Jim," Concluded the Caped Crusader and dived from the window…

Alexander Monroe was running. _He should never have come through the Narrows at night! _The wolf pack was closing in… laughing, waving their weapons. Monroe tripped and fell flat on his face. The three muggers closed in. He scrambled backwards…

Suddenly, a red streak knocked the attackers flying in every which way… _could it be? _A man stood before Monroe, smiling reassuringly. He wore a red cape, all the better to display his blue costume… _it was him… _it was Superman!

Batman heard the yell and the cruel laughter from five blocks away, and instantly knew it's source… _Crime Alley._

He was leaping across buildings, grappling over rooftops and sprinting frantically before he fully registered what he was hearing…

It only took him a minute to reach the alley, but when he reached it, the fight was over. A blue and scarlet clad hero stood beside the potential victim. Batman spoke the name quietly, coldly:

"_Superman."_


	4. Chapter 3

_**BATMAN: TARGET**_

**_CHAPTER THREE: The Last Stand_**

The two heroes stared at each other.

"Batman," _The Man of Steel, _as the Daily Planet had dubbed him, smiled at the Dark Knight.

"What do you want in _my _city?" Snarled the black clad vigilante. He wasn't going to have this star spangled boy scout disturb his _mission._

"I came to…" Began Superman.

"Save it! I have a job to do, and you're wasting my time!" Bruce didn't even know why he felt this anger towards The Man of Steel. He turned to walk away.

"Just listen to me, dammit!" The Caped Crusader turned back to Superman, shocked… from what he'd heard, any anger was unheard of in The Man of Steel, "I came to offer you help!"

"Huh. Maybe there is one thing you can do, Superman. But after that, you piss off back to Metropolis and your beloved headlines and leave me to do my job!"

Tetch laughed. _What kind of idiot was the Batman? _The Dark Knight was just sitting on a roof, seemingly ignorant of the helicopter hovering above him, only alerted as Tetch opened fire with the turreted chaingun!

Batman somehow dived aside and turned, hurling a shuriken that disrupted the gun's mechanisms… the weapon's barrel exploded in sparks! Tetch fell back.

"_Jesus," _Hissed Zsasz in his terrifying, violent tone, _"You couldn't even kill that runt then?"_

"Well, it's your turn now, isn't it, Victor? Get the Hell down there and show me your any better than I am!" Spat Jervis, slipping on his top hat and overcoat, "Come on! Let's roast this phony!"

Batman was running, diving, rolling, hurling shuriken… but he had no hope. The five sociopaths were determined… Crane's fear gas was too much this time, concentrated, and Stirk was coming at the hero, hatchets raised. Batman struck him, weakly, yelling…

Zsasz slashed his face… Bruce screamed:

"FATHER!"

_No… not Father… SUPERMAN!_

The red blur struck Zsasz, almost crippling the villain. Batman was up again, roaring… what was fear other than a form of adrenaline? And adrenaline gave him strength…

Batman dived on Crane, kicking him across the roof. Tetch's limp, unconscious, hurtled past the Dark Knight, and the rage departed. He stood, hunched up, on the roof. Superman hovered above him.

"Are you OK?"

"I will be."

"I'll be off. Back to Metropolis."

Superman began to slowly fly away,

"Wait!" Called the Dark Knight. Superman paused, "Thanks. And… you're welcome in Gotham from now on."

"Thank you," Smiled the Man of Steel, "I'm sure we'll meet again."

**COMING SOON:**

**THE FINAL CHAPTER IN THE TRILOGY- Batman: Revolution!**


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